Words (Elf Mage Origin)
by Graymalkyn
Summary: One-shot story depicting some scenes in the life of Neria Surana, from the moment she was taken to the Circle till her arrival at the fortress of Ostagar. (Stand-alone, but linked to "Last Of The Couslands - A Family Story")


**Words ~ Neria Surana**

Neria had always had trouble saying "no".

Back in the Alienage, when her cousin Shianni had dared her to steal a speckled red egg from old Varan's coop, she should have refused. After all, nobody expected little Neria Surana, seven years old, to misbehave – which was exactly the reason why Shianni had dared her.

She'd easily sneaked into the pen. Her little body had been a huge advantage for this. It was nighttime, and the hens were silent. For a moment she thought of leaving, but she knew that her cousin and their friends would be waiting for her round the corner. She didn't want to be mocked by them again. She felt her heart beating fast, as if it was a little bird caged in her chest, trying to fly away. She held both hands together over her chest and tiptoed clumsily towards the nesting boxes at the back, where the speckled hens were.

Neria timidly extended her right hand. She was afraid that she'd get pecked by one of the bigger hens. They sat still. She took one of the eggs, the one that was closer to the edge, and as she was about to put it in the pocket of her apron, she noticed that it wasn't speckled. It was just a brown one. She decided to put it back when she saw the hen watching her, its beady eye glittering in the moonlight.

She squeaked and dropped the egg, which shattered in front of her, in spite of the twigs and hay that covered the floor. The speckled hen emitted a sharp call, short yet loud, that pierced through the silence of the alley. Immediately, the rest of the hens awoke, and started flapping their wings desperately, cackling in distress, feathers flying about.

Neria covered her ears with both hands. She couldn't see the exit. The noises were too loud now. One of the chickens jumped out of its box and pecked at her leg, drawing blood. That seemed to enrage the other chickens, until Neria was surrounded by several, who pecked at her mercilessly, excited by the sight of the girl's blood.

She screamed and started crying, and when she tried to shoo them away, a light caught her eye. The light was coming from her hands. Fire. Her hands were on fire. She screamed even louder, and she heard someone outside shouting back at her. She shook her hands, trying to get rid of the fire, but instead it spread on the floor, quickly devouring the hay, licking up the wooden beams.

The door opened behind her and she stumbled to run out, crying and trying to hide her hands, but by the time she managed to sink them in the trough, a good part of the Alienage had seen what she really was.

The Templars took her away as she was. Someone had run towards the Chantry in town, and a man and a woman in armour had come for her. As she was leaving, she looked back at Shianni, who was covering her mouth in horror. Neria's cheeks got wet again.

It hadn't even been a speckled red egg.

She should have said no.

* * *

"Neria, can you come with me to the garden?" Torrian Amell seemed to be in a good mood. He'd been disappearing for hours lately, and frowning more than usual. Neria Surana, age eleven, was worried about her friend. She wondered if it had to do with the new boy that had been brought a month ago, Anders. He'd refused to give his name, so they'd called him like that after his accent.

Neria left her book and followed Torrian. He was striding towards the less visited part of the tower, at least by the apprentices. She rushed to keep up with him, but when they took the last turn, she hesitated.

"I don't think we should be here," she whispered.

"Why? Are you afraid?" He was staring at her, a smirk drawing in his lips.

She didn't reply. She held both hands together over her chest and took a few reluctant steps towards him.

"Come," he said, sprinting away, into the dark corridor. Neria saw him open the door to the gardens and walk out. She followed him. The cool breeze and the smell of fresh grass took her by surprise. Torrian's absence surprised her as well.

"Torrian?" she called timidly. She saw the top of his head as he disappeared behind some bushes. She ran towards him, but when she reached the place, he was gone. She shuddered. As she turned around to leave, she saw movement behind a tree. He was surely there.

"It's not funny, Torrian!" she cried. When she looked up the tree, she saw two skulls giving her a hollow stare. She screamed, as the skeletons descended upon her, dancing and shaking, their bones rattling and their blank faces grinning devilishly. She failed to see Anders and Torrian manipulating them, but she heard their giggling until the bones came loose and fell on her. She tried to run away, but she caught her foot on and fell down, her body covered by the skeletons now.

Torrian and Anders climbed down the tree and tried to calm her down, but she kept shrieking, her eyes shut tight, her whole body repelling the sensation of the bones on her skin.

"What are you doing to her?" Jowan shouted from behind.

"We took the skeletons from the alchemy lab. It was just a joke," Anders shrugged. Jowan removed the bones and picked her up. Her body was small and light. She was crying. He led her away from the garden, far from the bones and the chuckling of the jokers.

He gave her some sweets that he'd saved from the previous evening. As she ate a marzipan bunny, he told her about his family. He was feeling homesick, and she could relate to that feeling. By the end of the night, she wasn't mad at Torrian and Anders any longer, and she had the feeling that she'd made a lifelong friend. She went to sleep with a full belly and nice thoughts.

The skeletons filled up her dreaming, and she woke up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat. She'd only feel safe when she saw Jowan again. She lay on her side and waited for the morning to come.

* * *

"What about you, Neria? Is it true what they say about you and Torrian?" They were at the girls' dormitory, waiting for dinnertime.

Sixteen-year-old Neria blushed. "What-What do they say?"

The girls looked at each other and giggled. "You know… That you and Torrian have…"

"That you've been busy face-making!" another girl shouted, and they all laughed.

Neria didn't know what to answer. What did that mean?

"Oh please," a blond girl snorted. "Look at her. She doesn't even know what that means. I highly doubt she's done something like that." The girls laughed on.

Neria felt the blood rushing about her face and she hoped that the others hadn't noticed. _Making face…_ Did they mean kissing? Yes, surely they'd meant that. "We have!" she cried out. "But don't tell anybody."

The girls gasped in unison. "We won't!" one of them said.

"But only if you tell us about it. Where was it?"

"In… In the boys' dormitory," she said, hoping that Torrian wouldn't hate her for revealing that kind of information.

"What?" A girl with red hair laughed. "You can't be serious. In front of all of them?"

Another girl giggled uncontrollably as she asked, "Did you see his… thing? Before he put it… in?" Her question was met with a chorus of squeals and chuckles. "Is he big?" "Did it hurt?" Their eyes were fixed on her.

_What have I done,_ Neria thought, realizing her mistake. She was about to open her mouth and deny everything, but the blond girl that had made fun of her was staring at her. Neria knew she was waiting for her to admit that she hadn't done anything.

But she couldn't do that, not in front of all of them. And then she remembered Nerissa's letter. She smiled to herself and started describing them what she imagined Nerissa's actions had been, trying very hard to keep her story simple and believable. The fact that all of them were as clueless as she was in that aspect helped her a lot. When she finished, she silently congratulated herself for her quick thinking.

A few days later, she got up to go to the privy room in the middle of the night, when she suddenly heard two of them talking about her.

"I still can't believe she did that."

"I know… What a sneaky little whore."

"They say that she's been eyeing one of the newest Templar recruits."

"Oh, the cute one? Cullen?"

"Yes! He's got his eye on her as well."

"I can't believe he likes her! But you know what they say: the ones with the loosest underpants always have someone to warm their beds." They sniggered together. Neria held a hand to her chest and covered her mouth with the other one. She went back to bed and hid under her thick blankets. How she wished she was a boy, so that she could get away from the girls' petty attitudes.

* * *

_"No,"_ he had said. He swore he'd never dabbled in blood magic. He had asked her, _begged _her to help him. How could she say "no"? She'd been running around the storerooms, killing spiders, so that she could get that form signed. Because that was what friends did. They helped each other when in need. She had battled ghostly sentinels and walked through filthy rooms to help him, because that was a friend's duty. She had found his phylactery and allowed him to destroy it, because she wanted him to be happy. She had defended him until the end.

Until the end…

The dark energy that filled the hall… She had allowed that to happen.

She had believed in him.

He _had_ lied to her.

He'd said "no".

Irving was now saying that she had disappointed him. Greagoir was blaming him for everything. And Irving was willing to let her be taken to Aeonar.

"I _swear_, I didn't know!" Neria cried. "He was my friend! I _trusted_ him! He said he'd _never_-!"

"It's true," Lily murmured. "He tricked us both. She's not to blame. She did it with a true heart. She shouldn't be punished for trusting someone."

Greagoir signaled and two Templars stood behind Lily. She was to be taken away. He then turned to Neria. "You are to share this initiate's fate."

"No, _please_!" She'd never felt so terrified in her life. "Please, give me another chance! I swear-!"

"You _swear_? You expect us to be as naïve as you were?"

"Knight-Commander!" Torrian spoke behind him. He had come towards them, bringing a dark-skinned man along with him. "Please, listen to me. I'm willing to give up my place with the Wardens. The Warden-Commander has agreed."

"What nonsense is this?" Greagoir boomed. "Irving! You'd told me-!"

"It's not worth it, Torrian," Irving shook his head. "Do you really want to give up this rare chance only to save… _her_?" Neria shuddered as she heard the disgust in Irving's voice. She wept silently, her cheeks burning with shame and self-loathing.

"What terrible mistake are you saying she made?" Duncan said, evidently upset. "That she tried to help a friend? That she fought against Maker-knows-what in order to aid him? She put herself in danger for a comrade. She knows of loyalty."

"She wasn't loyal to the Circle," Irving protested.

"Excuse me, but then perhaps you should rethink what the Circle has done for her, other than willingly give her up so that she spends the rest of her life in a place that will kill her little by little." Duncan tried to calm down. "You said it yourself, First Enchanter. The girl is excellent. Why not put her abilities to a noble purpose?" Irving didn't reply. Duncan sighed and looked at Torrian, who was now holding Neria, trying to calm her down. "I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription-"

"You can't! I will_ not_ allow it!" Greagoir shouted.

"-_which supersedes the authority of the Chantry_." Duncan finished. "This mage is to come with me." He turned to her. His eyes were warm and kind. "I offer you a place with the Grey Wardens. Your skills will be highly appreciated, and you'll have a chance to start again."

"It's the best we can do, darling," Torrian whispered and he stroked her hair. She nodded reluctantly.

"Will you keep my things, please?" Neria asked him, wiping the tears from her eyelashes.

"I promise," Torrian smiled. He squeezed her tightly one last time, and then he let go of her. Duncan showed her out. She tried to look back, but a voice in her head told her, _"No. Don't."_ It was a firm voice. She nodded to herself and followed the Warden-Commander into the unknown.

* * *

She'd reached Ostagar with a group of Wardens that had been waiting for Duncan on the other side of the lake. He was to travel to Highever and before departing, he promised that she'd be well received. He hadn't been mistaken. In spite of the upcoming battle, everyone seemed to be in a jolly mood. She was taken to the Warden's camp, where she was to wait until her Joining. Nobody had told her what it was, but she suspected it couldn't be so different from the Harrowing.

As she approached the camp, she noticed two dwarves and an elf around the fire. The dwarves nodded at her with a smile and went on eating, but the elf had stood up, and he was now passing his fingers through his reddish hair in an almost shy way.

His voice was low and fresh, like a creek in the spring, and his smile was friendly and clear. "H-Hello," he stuttered. "I'm Th-Theron. This is Sereda," the woman smiled broadly, "and this is Faren." The man grinned.

"I'm Neria," she smiled. Her eyes wandered back to the elven man.

"Welcome, Neria," Theron smiled back, feeling more relaxed. "We've been expecting you."

...


End file.
